


end to begin

by thorinsbigdicko



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, broken bones broken friendships it's all the same right, nothing too bad but some people get pretty wrecked, some violence some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorinsbigdicko/pseuds/thorinsbigdicko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay Garrick and Harrison Wells have a history, one not entirely clear to friends and family. It's something even they can't define anymore, but it's there, and neither wants to be the first to admit to it. It spans years and worlds and at this point it's more confusing than enriching.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> look, look, this started out as a small thing, but i have literally no restraint and these two were written as exes and nothing—not the word of god nor hell or high water—will convince me otherwise

**I.**

The first time they meet, it’s at some second rate science convention.

Jay jokes that he’s only there for the free drinks, something he doesn’t get because he’s not really a big name in the science community, but there should have been little reason for Harrison Wells to be there. He hadn’t entirely come into his own yet, but he traveled the right circles and he was a genius beyond the likes of Jay Garrick.

There was something about Harrison, the way he lit up when he talked, the way he seemed to literally glow, or how he seemed completely in his element, but Jay wound up drawn to the man.

Jay finally got his chance to talk to Wells when the convention was winding down, although god knows scientists are of the stock where sleep is more of a rare occurrence than a requirement. They had talked about some scientific principle or another, all theoretical, and they had definitely hit it off. Wells had a wife and a child on the way, and Jay was never the home-wrecking type, but they switched numbers (Wells’s scribbled on blue ink on a half used napkin and Jay’s on an _actual_ business card) although Jay was sure the only time he would hear from Wells was at press conferences.

**II.**

Four years come and go. Jay makes some minor discoveries that get him on the local paper, but there’s not much beyond that. He’s happy though, even if he never heard back from Wells and the man himself had stayed out of the spotlight in recent months.

However, on his way to a breakfast with a colleague, it’s Wells’s face that catches his eye in some newspaper sold on a nondescript street corner.

 _Scientist Couple Harmed During Car Crash, One Dead,_ the headline reads, when Jay finally gets his hands on the paper. The front page features a shot of Wells and who he supposes is his wife. Jay reads to find out who the died, and relief as well as guilt flood through him when he finds out it’s not Wells himself who perished.

Later that night, he looks through old papers, receipts and bills and all sort of misplaced scraps, until he finds an old tattered napkin with numbers scrawled in blue ink.

Wells answers, surprisingly, and instead of offering condolences Jay’s sure Harrison has heard too many times, he offers to go out for coffee with the man. Harrison is silent for a moment before he answers in a small, quiet voice that yes, he would like that. They set a time and date and when Jay finally goes to bed that night, he feels oddly content.

The coffee he has with Harrison next week is unremarkable, which is probably what Wells wanted, and they meet up again a few weeks later.

Without any loud celebration, they slowly become friends.

**III.**

After another year, Harrison first bring up his lifetime dream, S.T.A.R. Labs. At this point, they’re just a little more than friends, even if Jay has fallen  _hard_ for Harrison, he’s glad just to be close to the man at all.

S.T.A.R. Labs seems feasible to Jay, and that’s what he tells Harrison.

They continue as friends, but it becomes something more in a short amount of time. Soon, they’re sharing secrets and stories as well as house keys and formulas and they trust each other more than they should, more than they ever will again.

Dreams become a reality, and a couple of years down the road, the S.T.A.R. Labs opens its doors (unbeknownst to the public, the building had been the testing ground for Jay’s and Harrison’s experiments for months now, even though there had been wires hanging out of every surface and the roofs weren’t finished and the whole place stank of paint) with a new and improved Harrison Wells at the reigns. Wells had offered to bring Jay on as a partner, but Jay had only shaken his head and mumbled some half-thought excuse about how he wasn’t fit for the public eye.

It’s a complicated process, Harrison has his hands full with both Jesse and S.T.A.R. Labs, but Jay steals moments from his busy schedule. Jay also helps Harrison in any way he can, with either the company or his daughter. It’s not a perfect plan, but they make it work because there’s a connection that’s essential to them both.

Those brief years are nothing short of bliss.

But then S.T.A.R. Labs takes up so much more time as it expands and Jay’s field of interest shifts far into the theoretical. Too soon, Jesse has already graduated high school and Wells is only months away from launching an ill-fated venture which the particle accelerator is the center of.

By that point in time they hardly talk anymore, and when there’s a flash of lightning and Jay wakes up from the coma fast—faster than even he can believe—he doesn’t even get a phone call from Harrison.

He tries to push down his resentment, and sets out to use his powers for good, getting his fair share of friends—and enemies, of course—even if Harrison Wells is not one of those who seeks him out.

**IV.**

Jay finds out the truth soon enough, even if he isn’t the technical genius Wells is.

It’s just too convenient that the metahuman threat popped up like some sort of obnoxious weed _after_ the particle accelerator went online. He denies the evidence for as long as it’s possible for a scientist to deny obvious facts (not a very long time), but eventually, he has to do something with the knowledge.

Without any warning or even any forethought, he dashes into S.T.A.R. Labs to get some answers, hoping against hope to be wrong for once.

Harrison is so focused on his work that doesn’t look up after Jay has come into the room. Jay has to clear his throat to get Wells’s attention, and even then the man jumps at the sight of the intruder.

They stare at each other for a couple of seconds, Jay trying to keep his face stoic, although he had always softened in the presence of Wells, and Harrison not even attempting to hide his astonishment.

“What brings Jason Garrick to my doorstep?” Wells asks in a tone that’s more amused than surprised.

Jay was never the tactful one, not like Harrison, who was able to twist the public in his favor with one look or well-placed word. So he goes in, fast and brunt, a strategy that he’s found to suit his newfound power.

“The particle accelerator caused the metahumans, didn’t it?” Jay tries and succeeds in maintaining eye contact with Harrison’s crystal blue gaze.

Harrison closes off then, rolls his shoulders and flicks his gaze to the side for the merest second, and it tells Jay all he needs to know. After all these years, Jay can still tell when Harrison’s lying, when there’s something he’s trying to hide.

“Harrison, you have to tell people.” Jay exclaims, because even if it won’t change the damage done, it’s the right thing to do.

Harrison sighs and stands, taking off his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“It was an accident,” Harrison offers as some sort of excuse. Jay backs off a couple of steps, and Harrison moves, leaning wearily on the front edge of his desk.

Jay get his first view of the man since they dated, an eternity ago. He’s still scrawny, but there’s more age in his face, more stress. Harrison’s hair is a mess and Jay’s certain the man hasn’t slept in at least 24 hours, but Jay has never been more attracted to Harrison and it worries him.

Harrison’s moment of weakness is gone, and he looks at Jay with a newfound glint in his eye. Jay swallows but shifts his gaze elsewhere and continues his plead with softer words.

“You have to do the right thing, Harrison.”

“The right thing? I am doing the right thing. I’m developing technology to contain the metahumans, Garrick. That’s all you need to know.”

Jay feels hot anger then and he closes the distance between them in less time than it takes Harrison to blink, something he doesn’t even need his speed for. They hadn’t been this close in too long, and while time has gone on and they’ve both changed since then, it still feels like the same Harrison Wells he knew and loved long ago.

“I’m going to tell everyone.” Jay threatens, even though there’s nothing for Harrison to be worried about. Sure, he’s the Flash and people adore his heroics, but he’s never been a public figure, and his scientific background is more of a fun fact than a defining trait.

Even as he says this, something like thrill runs through his veins. It’s either from the closeness of Harrison, or the prospect of actually carrying out the threat. Jay’s not sure which he prefers.

Harrison has got that annoying smirk on his face again, the one that Jay always hated yet never commented on because he always took pleasure in making Harrison lose that cockiness.

Harrison gets as humanly possible before giving his response, so close that they’re essentially chest to chest.

“No one will believe you.” Harrison whispers in a voice that’s far too smug and Jay has to indulge old habits.

Harrison is surprised by the sudden kiss, but it doesn’t take long for him to return it. The kiss turns into greater yearning that had been festering for weeks, months, years. Soon it’s more than a kiss, turning into more and more until Jay is bent over Harrison’s desk and they’re both lost to their passions.

When the feeling ebbs and Jay comes off his high, he looks up to Harrison’s same smug look, same messy hair, and all its implicated normalcy. All they had, but can never have again.

And the heat of the moment disappears in a blink of an eye.

 _This isn’t why I came here,_ he thinks, even if thought is hard and he wants nothing more than for things to be simple again.

But they’re stupid creatures of habit with complex emotions and shame is the only thing Jay feels as he dashes out of the room. He runs and runs and _runs_ (a few days later he realizes that he broke his speed record in his mindless need to escape and the fact causes an inexplicable shaking that lasts a few hours) until it’s sometime in the evening and he collapses in a park he’s sure is at least a few cities over.

He finds his way home some time before dawn, but it’s still a few days until he’s close to normal again. (Or as close as it gets to normal when you have gifts beyond your understanding granted by either fate or your ex.)

He doesn’t want anything to do with Harrison Wells ever again, and it works out fine for a couple of months.

But a streak of blue and a figure in black changes that.

**V.**

Jay’s doing his rounds of the city, making sure that no one’s trapped in a burning building or getting mugged or that another meta is stirring up trouble, when there’s a blur of black and he’s pushed into a rough surface. Everything feels off and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s not standing anymore, but rather sprawled on the ground.

He looks around and sees the source of the sudden shift of orientation.

It looks like a man but the mask is more of a blank slate than a face and the figure is wrapped protectively in blue lighting, although it’s completely still.

Jay’s terrified by this _thing,_ and before he can form another though, he zooms away from it. The logical part of his brain hasn’t caught up with him yet; he doesn’t realize that the thing had to be traveling at the same speed as him to crash into him, but he runs anyways because, quite simply, he’s scared. This isn’t like the metas, who can thrash him and are sometimes smarter than him, but are still far slower than him. He hasn’t been challenged in his element, and really, he just needs a couple of minutes to think this over. Logically, as the scientist he is.

He spares a glance back, and sees blue lighting right on his heels. The thing is spurred by his distraction, and tackles him so that they both tumble in front of a crowded restaurant on a thankfully empty street.

Jay lands with a heavy thud on the tiles and concrete, completing a couple of revolutions before coming to a complete stop. There is probably some yelling on behalf of the crowd, but all Jay can hear is a ringing in his ears. His vision is blurry, but even then he can see the blue lighting. It’s so close he can taste ozone in his mouth.

There are flashes of light and Jay doesn’t realize what they are until his vision comes back into focus and he struggles to his knees. The people in the restaurant are taking pictures and videos, confused and awed by the sight before them, but not enough so to run away, or even look away.

Jay wants to tell them to stop—he still doesn’t entirely understand what’s going on but he’s not going to give this thing another target—but it seems to be scared off by the attention. It grabs Jay by the collar of his jacket and throttles him, whispers something Jay can’t quite catch, and runs off.

Jay’s left dazed by the encounter, and there’s an inexplicable pain in his side. His helmet is a little way away—they can insult it all they like but it sure comes in handy when something tackles you from behind—but the distance seems like too much of a challenge to cross. Some brave people rush towards their fallen hero, and Jay accepts help even though he’s still cautious of whatever attacked him coming back to finish the job.

His side still hurts, but when he looks down there’s no blood, so he guesses that’s a good sign. Around him, there’s a flurry of activity due to the sudden disruption caused by Jay getting his ass kicked, and Jay wants to leave before people start asking questions he can’t answer. Someone hands him his helmet back and he nods a quick thanks before staggering to his feet.

People try to convince him to sit and rest, but instead he runs off, even though each breath sends sharp pains into his ribs. He makes it most of the way home, but has to stop once the pain becomes overwhelming. He’s grateful for his rapid recovery as he walks briskly, having no other option than taking public transportation, something he hadn’t done since he became the Flash and something he’s not inclined to because of the attention it gets (he can already imagine the headline: _The Flash Seen Taking the Bus, Public Awed. More on Page 3_ ).

When he finally gets home an agonizing eternity later, he takes off his jacket and checks that he isn’t bleeding out or something equally annoying. Besides some bruising and the obvious, sharp pain, there’s nothing out of place, and although he doesn’t want to, when he checks, all his ribs seem to be in one piece.

He breathes a sigh of relief. There are things he should probably do, other matters that need his attention, but all he wants to do collapse in bed. So he does, and it feels great but suddenly it’s the next day and he has to find whatever that thing was that decided to attack him and neutralize it.

Jay searches for the creature, unoriginally named “Zoom” by the media (which sticks, somehow), but it’s another month before he encounters it again.

The second encounter goes about as well as the first, but this time the thing manages to break Jay’s leg before it retreats, seemingly disappearing for the same reason as before. It seems to be inclined to taking him out in some dark alley rather than publicly, although this doesn’t exactly bode well.

Jay staggers to the nearest hospital and manages to recover. He would be hard pressed to admit it, but he’s actually worried for his life here. That doesn’t mean he refrains from trying to find and stop Zoom, but maybe he runs before he should and maybe he doesn’t see all their skirmishes through. If anyone notices, he doesn’t know.

Zoom doesn’t seem very interested in destroying the city, only the Flash. Part of Jay is thankful—if Zoom turned his eye towards the city, Jay’s not sure he would be able to stop the demon—but the other part of Jay is scared of what this entails. He knows one day he won’t be able to escape Zoom, maybe soon, and he will kill Jay. He should be scared, and he is.

Jay and Zoom continue this curious game of cat-and-mouse, Jay knows he’s not the one hunting here, but he reassures the public that Yes, everything is fine, and soon enough he starts to believe it again, even if every other encounter lands him in the hospital and he’s only alive by chance.

Eventually, though, Zoom _does_ turn his eye towards the city, and causes more destruction than even Jay can help with. The creature’s satisfied with just drawing him out, and almost always retreats before finishing Jay off. People start dying, however, and with each encounter the death toll rises.

This goes on sporadically for months, either because Zoom needs time to recharge or because of some other reason, and Jay is thankful it’s not a weekly dance. Jays fears that any moment Central City could turn on him—he’s not sure exactly _how,_ but the fear is there—but they seem to support him, rather than suspect him. He’s saved them all many times, and this is the pay off.

About a year in, he receives a message from Harrison Wells. It’s a letter, with a proper stamp and the S.T.A.R. Labs insignia in embossed gold lettering in the corner. He almost tosses it in the trash without even opening it, because it’s pretentious to send snail mail when other, faster, forms of communication exist (Jay still has the napkin somewhere—he could never find the willpower to throw it away—but he somehow knows Harrison no longer has Jay’s business card) and it’s such a _Harrison Wells_ thing to do, but then he comes to his senses and opens it.

It has Harrison’s messy handwriting in black ink, and it contains a short, simple message.

_I can help you._

The vagueness of it infuriates Jay and this time he does toss it in the trash.

Two more encounters with Zoom pass before Jay becomes desperate enough to consider Harrison Wells as a possible source of help.

Jay appears without warning, just like last time he bolts into the room and just glares at Harrison.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” Harrison says, like it hasn’t been weeks since he sent the letter.

Jay just keeps on glaring because it’s better to be infuriated than infatuated.

“Zoom is faster than you, isn’t he?” Harrison asks, opening something on his screen. Jay watches the man’s fingers and tries to remember that those hands can destroy as well as create.

He doesn’t even have to respond to the question because they both know the answer.

Harrison turns the screen towards Jay. It’s displaying a chemical formula; there’s VELOCITY-X in large red letters in the corner. Jay reads the data in the margins and visibly backs from the screen, the desk, everything he sees in front of him.

 _Harrison—the_ fool _—he didn’t he didn’t he didn’t—_

He did.

“A drug, Wells? That’s what you wanted me to see?” Jay spits out, venom lacing his words, intended to sting.

Harrison looks confused, like he expected Jay to accept this perversion of the Speed Force with open arms and wanton abandon.

Jay fumes internally while also venting externally, “Why does this even concern you? Zoom hasn’t—”

And then it clicks into place.

“You created Zoom, didn’t you? He’s a metahuman.”

Jay isn’t sure why they both keep asking questions that they know they answers to, but neither seems obliged to stop.

It makes sense, although Zoom doesn’t appear human anymore—he’s more like a manifestation of the dark and endless applications to the Speed Force—it’s conceivable that Zoom might have been human, once.

Harrison Wells, it seems, plays with the very fabric of reality ten times before breakfast and has destroyed more human lives in this city than any natural disaster. Jay knew the man had little regard for the laws of science, but he wasn’t aware Harrison didn’t care about moral laws, either.

Harrison tries one last plead, his voice desperate. “I can help you, Jay. Help me with this serum, we’ll keep the city safe—”

“ _We’re_ not doing anything, Wells. _I’m_ going to stop Zoom and I don’t need your drug to do it.” Jay nearly shouts at him, not caring for a moment if Harrison had good intentions or Jay’s well-being in mind.

Harrison’s got all the makings of a man defeated, if Jay cared anymore he might have noticed this, might have seen that there was more than Harrison was telling him, but as it stands Jay is angry and this anger is making him unreasonable, even though he’s always been the more level-headed of the two.

Harrison speaks softly, not even bothering to look anywhere but at the only solution he could offer. One that fell pathetically short. “He’s going to kill you.”

Jay’s death was going to happen in all likelihood, even if he hadn’t exactly accepted this as fact yet—delusion is a powerful thing to the right mind—but Jay would never give Harrison the satisfaction of being _right,_ not about this. Jay wants to retort, offer some witty, biting comeback, but he can’t because nothing about this situation is in his favor and he’s going to _die_ and it’s all— _all_ of it—Harrison’s fault.

Jay attacks with the only weapon he has, although he’s not sure it even hurts.

“The blood of every person Zoom has and will kill is on your hands, Harrison.” _Even my own._

Those amazing, terrible hands, which now grip onto the edge of the desk like a life-line, as Harrison stands up roughly, shoving the chair back. Those hands, which Jay held and was held with. Those hands which can hold a pen and break down the miracle of creation into nothing more than numbers and letters scrawled in blue ink, another thing for Harrison Wells to conquer and call his own. Those hands Jay hates more than anything else in his life, because he once loved the man that used them for good. Although now he’s sure doesn’t feel anything but hate anymore.

Jay wants to hurt Harrison more, but the implications of the last five minutes come crashing down on him like waves break before a cliff. Violently, with no regard for the chaos they cause. Jay’s left with an unsettling question—if Harrison Wells, who is smarter, more powerful than Jay will ever be, cannot solve this problem, then there’s really no hope left, is there? But Jay is a hero through and through, there’s something in him that won’t give up, a quality not granted by the lighting that came from those hands, those terrible beautiful hands. A quality that is entirely his own and the last thing he could stand to lose.

There’s nothing left to say, so Jay simply leaves.

Later, he confronts Wells publicly, because he thinks that may help, but Harrison brushes him off like he’s nothing, making it into a joke instead—it’s all a joke to him and the world is his stomping ground—and it’s the last time Jay Garrick tries to take Harrison Wells’s side.

**VI.**

Jay comes to accept the idea of death pretty easily. It’s not long before he’s thrown everything he has, every single trick and shred of mere luck, and it still falls woefully short.

Zoom has him completely at his mercy, but Zoom has no mercy and intends to drag out this victory, his final move in a long game that Jay can’t properly define anymore. Jay certainly wasn’t an equal player here, no matter what he told himself and others.

Jay collapses and Zoom reaches a vibrating hand into his chest, not to kill, not quite yet, and he feels pain, then a sense of loss. Something is wrong that cannot be put right again. It’s the only thing on his mind for a few moments, then it surrenders itself to all the other sources of pain that plague Jay. Not that it will matter for much longer.

Just as Zoom is about to end it—everything: Jay’s life, their little game, hope—the sky opens in a burst of blue against the night sky. Jay can’t do anything but watch as he’s pulled up into this tear marring the stars of his world. 

As he crosses this threshold, it all fades to black and a small part of him is thankful.

Jay Garrick wakes up and gets two, almost three moments of bliss before the world comes back in startling clarity. He’s in one piece, and noticeably _not_ dead (a fact he can discern because his entire body hurts). He gets up, slowly, and comes to realize that this is not his city. He’s not anywhere he recognizes, although he hasn’t been out cold for long since it’s still night. Unless he was unconscious for more than a day. But Jay’s familiar with long stretches of being out of commission and this doesn’t feel like any of those times.

Jay sits up and feels the back of his head, which is throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. It’s damp but when Jay sees his hand, it’s wet with water and not blood, as he’d feared.

He’s in a park, if the trees are anything to go by. He stumbles to his feet and collapses onto a nearby bench. He might be bleeding, but he lacks the strength to actually check if all parts are him are truly accounted for. He coughs and there’s blood on his hand when he looks at it, although it’s not fresh so Jay doesn’t worry too much.

For the moment, all he can accomplish is a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He tries closing his eyes, but the darkness reminds him of Zoom, of looking up at those empty black eyes and knowing his own doom, so instead he looks at this city’s skyline.

Again, it’s not one he recognizes, although if the sky did really swallow him like he remembers, he could easily be anywhere else. But even that seems more like a hazy dream than an actual memory.

Absent-mindedly, he rubs a hand at the place where Zoom might have reached into Jay’s very soul.

Calming himself appears to be a waste of time—he’s still too full of adrenaline, and, yes, fear—so he makes to take off and find out where he is.

Only to find that he can’t move faster than a common jog.

Perplexed, he runs and runs and runs until his lungs burn and he all but collapses. When he catches his breath, he tries again and again until he realizes what Zoom did. How he did it is still beyond Jay, but he can at least figure out, with the current evidence, that his speed is gone.

Jay collapses besides the paved path and continues to breathe heavily, but whether it’s from exertion or an impending panic attack, he’s not so sure. He wonders if this is just some bad dream, a nightmare that can and will end. But the burning in his lungs and the sharp pains that bite every time he moves a muscle attest to reality.

He walks to the nearest bench (every second he waits for it to come rushing back to him, it has to come back, _it has to)_ and doesn’t move after sitting down. He’s trying to figure this out—c’mon, Garrick, you’re a scientist! a voice cries in the back of his mind, but Jay ignores it because it sounds too much like Harrison and focuses on each breath instead.

He’s not sure exactly how, but he manages to doze off in the middle of the park on the bench. It’s not comfortable by any means, but somehow his exhaustion overcomes his weary body and mind, and he drifts off.

When he wakes, it’s because the pain is back. Jay doesn’t understand what’s going on in his half-asleep state—he feels pain but then it’s gone but then it’s back—until he opens his eyes.

There’s a man poking him, not exactly in a gentle fashion.  

The absurdity of it leads Jay to consider that maybe _this_ is a dream, but then the man notices Jay’s awake.

“Hey, man, you can’t sleep here.” The guy says, looking around anxiously.

It’s morning by now and the sun blinds Jay for a moment. He has to blink several times before he can make out the man’s features.

The stranger must figure this guy who fell asleep on a bench must have had a rough night because he leaves Jay some cash and another reminder to not fall asleep in parks because there’s bad people in this city, and then scurries off. Jay looks down at himself in broad daylight and is glad to find out there’s no dried blood on his suit, even if it has seen better days and his helmet is god knows where.

Jay stands, pushes the bills into his pocket without even looking at them, and walks off in no particular direction, eventually choosing the one that doesn’t have him facing the sun, which still hurts his eyes a little.

In his weary state, he doesn’t see the signs until there is literally one inches in front of his face. It’s words he’s used to seeing, words so ingrained in his brain they don’t even register.

This is Central City.

This is not _his_ Central City.

He pulls his hands out of his pocket to reach for the ubiquitous poster, and the bills he was handed at the park tumble out as well. He reaches down towards them, noticing now that this isn’t any currency he recognizes.

This place has the same name as the city he protects, the city he knows and loves, yet this is not his home.

Eventually, he comes upon the final piece of evidence, the one fact that cannot be explained by any assumptions Jay has come to since his realization.

This city’s hero is still the Flash, but his name is not Jay Garrick.

**VII.**

Following (see: stalking) this Flash . . . and a couple of his friends . . . seemed like the best idea at the time (it really wasn’t), but eventually it paid off. And it’s all nice and dandy (it’s not but that’s what he tells himself) until Harrison Wells shows up in Jay’s life again.

There are some people you will always run into, even when you are worlds apart.

Jay wants to punch him in his stupid smug face—this is _his fault_ and no one else’s—and he eventually does.

But Harrison Wells is still very much Harrison Wells.

Not only does he absorb the hit, he comes back with a few on his own. Jay is perfectly content with pummeling the man, but Barry breaks them apart before anyone gets hurts—little does he know he’s too late for that—and Jay retaliates with an aggressive campaign of ignorance towards any and all actions Harrison Wells takes.

The kids—Jay’s not that much older than them but in his eyes they’re too young to have so many damn skeletons in their closets—seem to like Harrison more than Jay for some reason, though.

The Harrison Wells of Earth-1 was not a very good man. Jay learns that they trusted him, looked up to him and he betrayed them in the end. However, they’re still young and youth grants a fickle memory and a need for guidance. Jay tries, but he’s been on his own as long as he can remember and Wells is a more attractive choice for guidance than Jay could ever hope to be. Maybe it’s because of his daughter that he knows to how work with these kids, but Jay’s not certain and he doesn’t want to stick around to find out.

Wells creates a plan that tantalizes these kids with its potential reward, despite its danger.

Jay sighs even as these kids listen eagerly. Some things never change. A world away and still Harrison Wells has that need to be the one to call the shots, to take dangerous risks without hesitation. Jay figures it’s because someone else always pays for his mistakes.

And even on this Earth, Harrison Wells is infinitely more needed than Jay and the pain of this makes him leave them to fight Zoom on their own. There’s not much he can do, anyways. There’s nothing left in him that has the mark of a hero.

**VIII.**

Harrison Wells somehow manages to find ways to increase Jay’s disappointment in him.

Hope is a fickle thing, the worst kind of poison because it’s one he needs to survive.

Jay had hoped for the solution and then raged when Harrison Wells offered nothing substantial.

The Velocity drug was a crime against the Speed Force when Harrison first offered it to him, it continues to be one now. Taking it would be an action Jay would have never forgiven himself for.

So, he storms out of there, rejects Harrison Wells just like he did all those months prior—years? Even Jay has lost count at this point.

But Harrison Wells and Jay Garrick are trapped in an endless cycle of needing each other, and when Jay gets the call from Joe, he can’t seem to get there fast enough. There’s this belief in him that there’s something in Harrison Wells still worth saving, and that hope drives him forward (it’s misplaced and part of him recognizes that but the rest of him couldn’t care less because Jay still cares about Harrison, after all this time).

So, he forsakes his morals, all he has left to call his own after he’s lost his speed and his life and his world, and takes Velocity to save an echo of he had, once.

After months of not being able to be himself, using Velocity-6 feels like bliss. He doesn’t even get a second to hate himself for enjoying the feeling before he has to save Harrison Wells’s life with this power granted and taken, granted and taken.

But he does; he reaches into Harrison’s chest without hesitation even as he feels the speed ebbing. It takes more willpower than he thinks he has to hold onto this speed, but he does. Harrison Wells might have killed him in every sense of the word but the literal, but Jay could never see him die. Not if he can help it.

So, Jay grabs the bullet and saves the day. He stares at the small cylinder even as Caitlin reassures him that Harrison’s going to be okay. He drops the bullet in a nearby tray and pushes his hands into his pocket to stop the shaking he’s lost some control over, and pretends not to care because it’s easier than looking down at Harrison.

He steals glances afterwards, he pretends that he’s only staying to yell at Harrison when he wakes up, but not even he believes that lie.

Harrison looks tired even while sleeping, and so vulnerable. While part of Jay continues to pretend he doesn’t care, the other part of him keeps an eye on the heart monitor. Waiting for each subsequent beep feels slower than anything he experienced while he had his Speed.

Jay doesn’t end up screaming at Harrison because the sight of him in obvious pain and weakly attempting to keep himself together is enough to quell Jay’s rage, but only by a slight margin. He still wants to give Harrison a sound verbal thrashing, but when the first words that come out of the man’s mouth are “How you doing, Garrick?” in that tone of his Jay sometimes heard him use with Jesse, it’s all he can do to not lose this entire façade he’s been able to hold up.

However, Jay does leave him with the reminder that what he’s doing is _wrong,_ even if Harrison keeps deluding himself into thinking he’s some sort of god.

If this teaches them anything, it’s that Harrison Wells is human and he, too, bleeds. 

**IX.**

Jay had expected to take more losses in the fight against Zoom, but not like this.

Harrison Wells was flesh and blood and one day he would die.

_But not like this._

Jay runs to him. Wells is leaning against the wall, trying to hold himself together in more ways than one. Already, the front of his shirt is crimson with his own blood, and Jay can’t seem to reach him fast enough. Before Jay reaches him, Harrison slides to the floor, collapsing with a loud thump.

He finally gets there, although the mere thought of being there feels like too little, too late. “Harrison—” Jay tries, but he can’t seem to catch his voice.

Harrison locks eyes with him, then with a speed Jay would never anticipated, jabs him with something.

With a little disbelief and a little anger, Jay looks down and doesn’t understand at all, until he _feels it again._ He looks down at his hand in disbelief. He makes it vibrate and it obeys. He makes it stop and it obeys. The Speed Force greets him like an old friend and Jay feels too much emotion to process.

He struggles with words, forms single syllables into coherent sounds with a lot of effort, then only manages two words for his troubles. “Harrison—how?”

Harrison offers a weak smile and grabs onto Jay’s bicep with a bloody hand. “Told you I could do it. . .you just had to trust me.”

There is still too much blood when Jay looks down, so he moves to carry Harrison in his arms—with this speed he can save him—but Harrison just weakly pushes him away with an effort that drains him.

“Stop him,” Harrison whispers, looking into Jay’s very soul with that crystal blue gaze of his, “save her.”

Jay knows stopping Zoom is tantamount to saving the world, but he can’t just leave Harrison to die. However, Caitlin comes in at that moment, and despite the chaos that feels like it’s threatening to crush them all, Jay carries and places Harrison gently on the nearest examination bed.

Then Jay turns to leave to settle an old score.

“Jay!” Harrison calls out with surprising strength, before Jay makes it out. Jay turns around but doesn’t rush back to his bedside. “Watch out for the claws.” Harrison offers what is supposed to be a smile, but comes off more as a grimace.

Jay doesn’t want to leave, but he trusts Caitlin’s skill and leaves Harrison to her care, trusting he will get another chance to properly scold Harrison on whatever stupid risk to took to get nearly eviscerated. And for the horrible joke he felt the need to make as possible final words.

But he does leave, and he catches Zoom off guard—just like that first time except the roles are reversed. The battle seems to last an eternity, but in reality, it’s settled in a blink of an eye. It takes everything he has, everything Barry has, but they beat Zoom. It’s a horrible, terrible end befitting a terrible, horrible life, but it’s as close as a victory as they could have hoped for.

This is when someone finally decides to tell him that not only did Zoom have Jesse in his grasp, he also used her as blackmail.

Jay first feels nothing but fear because Zoom died without telling them where Jesse was. Jay runs back to his Earth with only a vague clue and panics. But then Barry shows up behind him, and they make to cover more ground.

Even then, it takes them more than an hour of searching, but they find Jesse.

When Jay walks in and sees her, he wishes Zoom were alive again just so Jay could kill him all over. Jesse looks awful, and she flinches at the sound of a speedster approaching—it’s the same sound, no matter if the person is trying to kill or save you.

Jay walks towards her slowly, carefully, conveying in every way that he’s not a threat, that she’s safe now. He offers some empty words of comfort, but the real relief comes when Jesse’s untied and safely in his arms. Jay finds Barry, and they both head back to back to Earth-1.

There is no sound or movement when Jay arrives, still carrying Jesse. He sets her down gently and goes off to find Caitlin. Then, they both rush back to the Cortex, and Caitlin examines Jesse.

Jesse grabs onto Jay’s wrist and he stays by her side. He couldn’t leave her, even if he wanted to. She’s in a strange world, a strange place, after being held captive for far too long. What she needs is a familiar face, and Jay’s not about to leave her in the care of strangers.

Harrison isn’t on any of the beds nearby, and Jay wants to ask Caitlin about him, but she’s so focused on tending to Jesse that Jay knows she won’t hear him. Either way, part of Jay doesn’t want to know what happened, because ignorance is bliss.

Eventually, though, Caitlin gives Jesse some drugs to go to sleep because she’s by no means healthy and needs rest. Jay leaves Jesse with soothing words and a promise to be there when she’s awake.

By now, everyone in S.T.A.R. Labs knows that this is Harrison’s daughter. They want some answers, but so does Jay. He promises to tell them later, but there’s a matter more pressing present.

Caitlin looks worried as she describes what happened with Zoom and Harry, as they make their way to where he’s supposed to be resting.

“I gave him enough morphine to knock out even Barry—and you—but I don’t think even that was enough,” Caitlin tries to joke, weakly, but he can see that she wants to check his status herself, and there’s a worry there—not the kind that comes from a friend, but something a little more than just a doctor worried about their patient—that Jay notes, grimly.

Jay wants to reassure her—actually, he wants to run ahead because walking seems too slow now that he’s gotten his speed back—but all he can manage is a nod. They finally reach Harrison, who’s tucked under some blankets, with bandages poking out from under his bare chest. Harrison looks too pale, but he’s breathing even if breath is so shallow it hardly causes his chest to move.

He’s still asleep, which should be a good thing, except he too much like a corpse for Jay to be reassured.

Caitlin seems satisfied with Harrison’s state, but she doesn’t leave quite yet. She lingers and Jay wants to ask if _she’s_ okay, but she reaches some silent conclusion and walks out without another word.

Jay wants to follow her to find out what that’s all about, but he can’t find it in himself to leave Harrison’s bedside. He fears that if he leaves, worse things will happen. So, he settles in for a long wait.

Harrison stays unconscious for nearly a day. About twelve hours in, Jesse appears hesitantly at the door.

 She’s in another set of clothes (she happens to be wearing the same S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt he wore once but he doesn’t say anything) and looks much better than when he brought her in, even if she’s not the same girl he knew. Nor would she ever be again.

“Dad?” She calls in a hoarse voice from her hiding place in plain sight. She comes towards them and Jay remembers he’s not the only one with a claim to Harrison’s bedside. He lets her be close to her father, but still lingers because of a reason he can’t quite explain.

They both stand vigil next to Harrison’s bed (actually, Jay gives Jesse his chair by the bedside while he hops onto a nearby desk and waits) until he finally wakes up.

Harrison Wells regaining consciousness isn’t marked by angel’s songs and the opening of the heavens, although it feels like a momentous event to Jay nonetheless. Especially since Jay feared he would never see those eyes again, that his last image of Harrison would be one of the man covered with his own blood.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, then Harrison is awake. The first thing he sees is Jesse, because he whispers her name like a prayer and tries to reach for her. Jay’s at his side before Harrison can make it more than a few inches. Jay places a hand on Harrison’s chest, holding it there so the man doesn’t try to jump out of bed or something equally annoying that would put him in a worse state.

Instead, Jesse comes to him, and they hug and they cry and Jay makes to leave. Like last time—this is nothing like last time because Jay isn’t left angry and hopeless, but rather the opposite—he was at Harrison’s bedside with the man laying wounded before him, all he needed was to see those cobalt eyes and be reassured.

“Jay—” Harrison calls out between gasping sobs as he holds onto his daughter, “thank you.”

This is nothing like last time because when Jay feels tears in his eyes, they’re not of anger, or even sadness, but of indescribable joy. He walks out before those tears can fall, though.

He makes it up to the Cortex, and finds out the reason Zoom tried to tear Harrison Wells apart.

“Zoom was using Harry’s daughter to get to him,” Barry starts, “but Harry still didn’t help him.”

Even with his own life, and the life of his daughter, on the line, Harrison couldn’t betray them. He had modified the Velocity drug to give Jay permanent access to the Speed Force, all while telling Zoom it was actually to enhance Barry’s powers. Zoom had found out eventually, and they had barely been in time to save Harry.

Jay had never felt these were _children,_ until this moment. They were young, they were scarred, and Jay should have known better than to leave Harrison alone with them. They could have all died if it weren’t for the last shred of decency Harrison had left in his body. Jay had doubted its existence, had raged and yelled, and he had been wrong.  

Harrison’s recovery was a long and arduous process, made worse by the fact that Harrison tried to get out of bed every other hour, stating that he was fine, really. Jay only needed to lift Harrison’s shirt, exposing the still healing scar to its owner, and that was enough to calm the man.

Jay himself can still barely stand the scar. It’s not one solid, jagged line, but rather three tears which almost connect. Claw marks. Jay felt anger the first time he saw it, wishing again that Zoom wasn’t dead so that he might die again and again and again. Demons deserve the same anguish in death that they dealt in life.

That was the most serious wound Harrison had, but it wasn’t the only present Zoom had left him. Harrison had several cracked ribs and more cuts and bruises than Jay could count.

It takes too long, but eventually Harrison is able to get out of bed. After so much complaining, Jay had expected Harrison take a big deal out of it, but instead Harrison only grits his teeth and strains to get up, looking pale enough to worry Jay. But Harrison does get up, and he does recover, with Jay on one side of him and Jesse on the other.

**X.**

Jay eventually forgives Harrison for all that transpired between them. It’s by no means easy, but Harrison makes it easier by apologizing for the mess he caused, too. Then Harrison smiles in the way that doesn’t annoy Jay, and Jay smiles back. Then, without thinking, Jay is leaning forward, and so is Harrison, and it’s like the last couple of years only happed because they both needed to understand each other. The pain had only been present so that something new might be discovered. Progress through chaos.

They kiss, and there’s no taste of death on his lips, and there’s no threat of running out of time, and there’s something else entirely, and there’s a glow that has nothing to do with external luminescence.

They kiss, and like all those other times, it’s bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> why did they have to do that to jay ;-;


End file.
